At the end of a memory thread
by random-k
Summary: Little stories through out the game about other characters. each one different. First "Hanging by her fingertips" Second "The ways and Drabble's of why" Third "What lies behind a photograph"
1. Chapter 1

Hanging by her fingertips

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_I own nothing but my own ideas_

* * *

_The Dream Man's coming on a train of cars_

_With moonbeam windows and his wheels of stars_

_So kiss your Mummy and kiss your Pa_

_Then all aboard you little ones_

_The railroad track, it is a railroad bright_

_That runs right up into the starry night_

_So come you little ones, have no fear_

_The Man in the Moon is the engineer_

_Hush! here comes the Dream Man_

_Hush! here comes the Dream Man_

_Now you children, run up the stairs_

_Put on your nighties and say your prayers…_

_"The unstable are more than merely mad; they have other parts. The Dollmaker will deprive them of what remains of their deranged souls. They need care."_

"_'Mad enough.' Do you see yourself? The seeds of your destruction were sown long ago, and now he will reap the harvest. He owns your mind, and you've just been renting. You owe a debt and he will collect."_

* * *

"Doctor do you right? Still sick in the head?"

The brunette in question just stared at Her sadly "I'm past cure"

She stared at said brunette blankly. Wondering why she didn't get it , why she couldn't see what was to become of them.

"Terminal condition" The brunette, Alice, stated sadly

"Are you that self absorbed?' She had wanted to ask, 'So blind to the truth? It really should be easy to add the clues up, any half decent investigator could do it. But who would look into crazy orphans? London is corrupt through and through.

She shock her head sadly as Alice absently told a young boy to 'wear bloomers" when he complained about the doctor going for his underwear. When Alice had arrived here, She had such high expectations for her. Alice, she had thought, was different. Alice would see through the flimsy illusion.

Her files indicated Alice had cured herself. Even if it had not been her own doing, someone who had come back from the brink of insanity, when the world had given up hope of her recovery, had to have a strong sprit. Be a fighter. A Survivor.

She had been disappointed when Alice had only been interested in trying to forget, content to take her meds, and only focused on being un-curable. And her 'Wonderland', which probably wasn't so wonderful now, judging from the pictures.

It was too late for Her, but She had harbored a hope that that it could be different for the other children. Hope that they could be saved from a fate similar to her friend, Bree.

Bree was a sad little girl ,who had been at the home when She had arrived. Bree had been nice to everyone, and had happily talked to Her about everything and anything. In return she had told Bree all about herself, something She had never done. Gradually, Bree had slowly begun to distant when she turned 11. Sadly , by the time She noticed, it was to late. Then Bree disappeared.

She hadn't really added it up, until a few months later, when she was getting another pill order. She had seen Bree. Bree was up against the wall, but her expression had been uncaring. Blank. Lifeless. Bree was gone in every way, but a body.

The realization hadn't made a big impact on Her, like it should have. She ,herself had already been over halfway gone , when She saw Bree.

Now She was hanging onto a bent tree branch above a hole, ready to envelope her in oblivion when she fell. She was already ,mostly submerged in the hole, the nothing. Only her eyes , and a single hand grabbing the branch were visible.

Once she fell her mind and soul would depart from her body, leaving body to be used by them. She wasn't trying to hold on, just passively waiting for the tree to bend, the branch to break. The sessions slowly lowered her further in.

Then one day they finally stopped, but for Her it was far to late. The branch was nearly snapped, all that could be seen, were fingers holding onto the branch. The rest was enveloped by the hole. Separated from the world. Lost

…_And ride with Mr. Dream Man_

_Until daylight comes again_

_And see all the wonders of Wonderland_

_On the Dream Man's train_

_Hush! here comes the Dream Man_

_Hush! here comes the Dream Man_

_Now you children, run up the stairs_

_Put on your nighties and say your prayers_

_And ride with Mr. Dream Man_

_Until daylight comes again_

_And see all the wonders of Wonderland_

_On the Dream Man's train_

_The song is __HUSH! HERE COMES THE DREAM MAN_

_(Robert Patrick Weston / Fred J. Barnes / Maurice Scott)_

* * *

_Every time the words her and she are capitalized I mean the unnamed protagonist not Alice or Bree. I'm pretty sure She is the leader of the insane children, and defiantly the one girl in the orphanage. The first line and the song are sung by her, if you recognize the dialog. I quoted the Leader of the insane children at the beginning twice. Lovely readers please review. Nice as it is to see views on the traffic graphs a review is even better. It makes someone memorable_


	2. The ways and Drabble's of why

The ways and drabbles of why

* * *

_I own nothing but my own ideas_

* * *

_a little end game Drabble_

* * *

"Why didn't you see?' the first doll asked. "Why did you refuse to see?" another doll amended. "You could have cured yourself" an insane child turned doll yelled "Why didn't you?"

"Why were you so self absorbed that you refused to see?" a third doll asked.

"You could have cured yourself! You did before!" An insane child turned doll shouted. "You have wonderland. It helps you cope. Much better then any other treatment."

"So why-" another insane child asked "-did you let someone else break, what you yourself fixed?"

"So selfish" The last voice was different from the rest. Before she had time to identify the speaker, a child spoke out.

"You fixed your mind, then let others break it! Let some stranger tell you your insane, and shatter it?!"

"I am insane" Alice told them, nearly crying. " I'm past cure."

"No!" the doll children chorused. "Unlike us, you have Wonderland. You could fight it!"

"Why didn't you fight it?" a voice from behind her asked. Alice turned around, but no one was there,. That she could see, at least. "Run!" the voice continued. "Get away from everything! Finish you fight away from prying eyes. Perhaps by the country side."

"What about us?" The dolls shouted.

"There's nothing she can do for you." The voice told them. " So long as she has stopped trying to kill herself, she should recover her sanity, or what's left of it. You have stopped trying, haven't you." Alice nodded, she figured it could see her. "Then run away from those who seek you harm. Take the money from your lawyer, and be gone."

Alice stopped her musings on who the strange voice could belong to (it certainly didn't belong to someone from Wonderland, but it seamed familiar) and frowned. She certainly wasn't about to run away.

"You've killed ,Dearie. Where's your proof it was self defense, if it was that? You were looking for a fight. Hard to trust someone insane isn't it, cant even trust her own head." The voice taunted "Get away from that label, while you can ,Dearie."

A featureless person, the speaker, walked up. It almost looked like a doll child, but that wasn't the right description. Alice held her vopral blade at the ready, but the speaker didn't attack. "Wonderland has been broken, not shattered, Dearie. You realize the truth. Broken can be fixed, not shiny new, but better. It might be Hell, but Hell is something. You almost entered Mu."

The leader of the insane children could only watch, not help. So she waited for Alice to make a decision. Leave or stay.

* * *

_**After they die, the place they go is MU (Nothingness).**__" _Death Note.

_Well this is later then I intended to update. Oh well._

"_How long until you get a clue_

_Take a hint and please review" _

_I don't think you have ever seen a rhyme review plea, have you? _


	3. What lies behind a photograph

What lies behind a photograph

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_I own nothing but my own ideas_

* * *

The Liddle family portrait had hung proudly on the front wall for years. Until one day , the family came home to find it shattered on the floor, frame broken. The picture, was luckily, unharmed. Despite the number of things that could have befallen the photograph, Mr. Liddle had decided the break had come from a poor job on the wood frame. Naturally he went to the best carver in town, to commission a new frame.

The best carver in town, was a man named Peter Ketterly, who made a frame with a simplistic design, and very strong wood. It was expensive work to be done and needed payment in advanced, something was only too happy to provide.

Peter got a little sidetracked, but true to his word, it was done within the month. Unfortunately so were the Liddle's. Their house had burned down, and the picture had been sent back. It was regrettable, but there was really nothing to do but put it away, and occasionally bring it out to show a fine sample of his craftsmanship. For the most part the photograph was forgotten, and Peter focused on his Daughter Polly's upcoming marriage to a boy named Diggory. A few weeks before the wedding, his wife Jillian brought the topic of the photo up.

" Dear, you know that photograph we keep in the attic. The one of that family."

"The Liddle's?"

"Yes. One of the Liddle's is still alive, dear. The youngest one. Alice, I think. The paper said she went insane after her family died. She is in a home for recovering children,"

Peter knew his wife pretty well after 19 years. " So you want to send her the photo?" he asked.

"I do." His wife told him. "And now so do you"

Peter stared at her.

"I know you very well Peter. And you hate being dishonest. She already paid for it, and its really just sitting in the attic getting dust. It might help the poor girl, and Polly will be happy to hear about it."

She knew him to well. He sighed and asked "Where do I send it?"

She didn't know, but luckily it didn't take to much digging to find out. So he sent it and finished the brief time his path crossed into the lives of the Liddle family. He never knew how much the recipient wished he had left a return address so she could thank the sender.

Thank him for his kindness. And her memories. Her fighting spirit.

A photo that brought back memories and started a fight for truth. But that's another story.

* * *

_Any guesses what broke it? I love the chronicles of Narnia. So I used their names_

_Peek- a -boo_

_I see you_

_Please review _


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